


Hello, Listeners

by sugarby



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Multi, POV Third Person, no wtnv spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 14:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14570775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: Kozu 5, the TV station for weather, news and entertainment, is no longer so simple or straightforward. As of late, it's different. No one knows why but a voice has taken to speaking to them but Stardew Valley Residents trust the man behind the voice is qualified enough; that he knows what he's talking about even with the unnecessary anecdotes and odd segment or two he's apparentlyprohibitedfrom mentioning.





	Hello, Listeners

**Author's Note:**

> I got in to _WTNV_ last year and I like it! Even bought the book! I’m only twenty something episodes in at the moment, so there’s plenty more for me to listen to. But for now, here’s a crossover fic from me inspired by the nineteenth episode of the podcast. If you’re unfamiliar with either _WTNV_ or _Stardew Valley_ then, depending on which fandom you’ve found this in, I recommend dabbling in to the other. Stardew is a game I play on chill days, and the podcasts for Night Vale have captivated me.

*   SPRING   *

  
  
Thunder roars in the sky and a white streak splits the blue, cloudy sky in half for a moment. It's still Spring, the season of rebirth, freshness, purity and goodness. In the carpenter's store, which is also a family home, the Television on a table in the back fizzes out of white noise and presents a picture. Still, coloured and would be familiar if not for the recent showcases. Kozu 5, the TV station for weather, news and entertainment, is no longer so simple and straightforward. As of late, it's different.  
  
No one knows why but a voice has taken to speaking to them.

> _"Good morning, listeners."_

It's smooth, masculine and polished with an underlined tone of causality, like it's been doing this for a lifetime and is comfortable enough to set up and continue anywhere. Stardew Valley Residents trust the man behind the voice is qualified enough. That he knows what he's talking about even with the unnecessary anecdotes and odd segment or two he's apparently _prohibited_ from mentioning. 

> "The annual Egg Festival and Flower Dance are scheduled to take place at the usual time, in the usual place. I received a letter about it from Mayor Lewis despite my location being unknown and my inability to leave this station to  _physically_  attend. I appreciate the consideration nevertheless."

Robin smiles, "That's our Mayor. Got eyes and ears everywhere."

The Farmer hums, neither disagreeing nor questioning the notion. Mayor Lewis does seem to know plenty about enough. Then again, he wouldn't be a very decent Mayor if he couldn't perform tasks like that.

> _ "—And float."  _

The first half of this addition is lost to the Farmer, who was lost in their own thoughts, but he must be talking about the Mayor of where he's from in comparison _—_ a place called Night Vale that has...floating lights? Whatever that's about. 

> _ "Needless to say, a Mayor who can do that, and turn in to a horse as well as disappear, is the kind of talented person you want controlling your town. Mayor Lewis' letter mentions that attendance is not mandatory, but the Community Centre Junimos, who know where you live and have been in your home countless times while you were sleeping, politely encourage you not to skip out." _

"I don't remember when he started doing this, you know. Strange, right?" Robin opens up the cash register for the correct change and passes over the counter for the purchase of a piece of furniture. "Maru told me about it first. Said  _'there's a man with a voice and he talks to us'_ ". The Farmer takes the chance and thinks back privately in their mind. They can't pinpoint exactly when this man's voice invaded Kozu 5 station. Robin tries to reassure, "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Probably a prank. Kids these days." There aren't a lot of children around; the two present are busy being tutored by Penny. It might be Shane even though his rough edges and heavy beard are proof enough he's outgrown childhood.

"Probably."

Robin leans over the counter with a hand beside her mouth, "Mind you, he doesn't talk about the weather as much as he does... _other things_." The topic is suspicious enough without her hand by her mouth. The Farmer pockets their change, aiming to leave. They'd rather not get in to talk of government conspiracies and other-worldly phenomena _—_ ghosts, angels, forgetful jacket wearers _—_ that the broadcaster treats entirely natural. What, with their grandfather having passed away not too long ago.

> _ "Listeners, isn't this strange? To hear my soothing voice, to know that I'm here in your town but not know where. Perhaps my location can't be disclosed for our own good. Or I'm a sound inside your head that only you can hear. If you think this is the case, do not see Doctor Harvey." _

Robin stares at her television, open mouthed and confused.

The Farmer blinks, waiting.

_ "And if you can't hear me inside your head, please...keep trying. I have a lovely voice." _

  
 

 

*   SUMMER   *

 

In the time he's been here, the broadcaster can't help but compare Night Vale and Stardew Valley. It's by no means intentionally critical. It just is what it is: different. He tells anyone tuning in over the hum of fans and between dips in cool lakes all throughout the town.

> _  "I've experienced many things in my career...but this is a first. Listeners, I've just received a pizza in the mail. An entire, whole pizza, yes. Freshly baked, covered in toppings. The letter it came with is signed by...Shane who works in Joja Mart. That dastardly corporation." _

Silence.

> He gasps, and is quiet for a time as he sits on a possible truth,  _"...Wait. If he's able to send me pizza then he must know where I am. Oh..."_  Relieved and excited at first at the idea of leave being possible, it diminishes instantly. His heart sinks,  _"...Yet he hasn't informed the authorities to conduct a rescue."_  He sighs disappointedly, like he held Shane in such high regards in the beginning and didn't openly express his views on how unlikable and rude he is. _"The nerve of some people. The careless nerve. If you're listening, Shane of Joja Mart _—_ the enemy of our town _—_ I'm not impressed."_

“Shane  _can_  be a jerk.”

The Farmer looks from the  _Journey Of The Prairie King_  retro-styled video game on the TV screen to Abigail with a blank face. The controller is neglected in their hands and their character stills in the middle of an onslaught of foes while the second character, controlled by Abigail, fends them off  _horribly_. It's not secret that Shane (Of Joja Mart, as residents may start calling him now, the voice having bitterly spoken it like an aristocratic title) isn't the friendliest person, but Abigail is missing the point completely; it's not necessarily Shane himself who's aware of the broadcaster's location but the postal service he could've handed it to first before they did their job and delivered it. So where's their callout?

Abigail looks back briefly, half focused on the game. She smiles, "What?"

> _"Listeners...did you notice? I said 'our' town. As peaceful and welcoming as you're all lead to believe Stardew Valley is, the fact remains that I don't live here; I'm just a visitor and I don't know when...or if I'll return to Night Vale."_  He isn't crying but he sounds like he could, keeping back a sob but letting out a long, gloomy groan of despair.  _"I don't mean to bring the mood down but...I miss Night Vale. I miss Khoshekh. And I miss Carlos—dear, sweet, kind and intelligent Carlos. If you knew him, listeners, your hearts would be as low and hollow as mine is without him."  
> _

In the absence of his voice that has become too unstable to carry on with for the time being, the words of a sponsor play next. Hushed murmurs of a group of people, the language indecipherable but spoken so furiously quick; it's heavily hinted that should you understand the language, you must do as it says and burn all pairs of laced shoes and turns all house lights and off for five straight minutes.

> _“And now, the weather.”  _

Music filters through speakers, retro beats of a classic, beloved pop song.

Abigail blinks multiple times in her confusion, “He said the  _weather_  right?”

The Farmer has to wonder too. "...Yeah, I think."

“Weird. I kinda like this song, though. You know Sam and Sebastian are in a band, right?”

The Farmer assumes the point to that is maybe, through Abigail’s recommendation and passionate compliments, they’ll be asked to perform live. It's doubtful they would play music of this genre, less it be the work of dark magic wielders from the place the presenter fondly speaks of with supernatural anecdotes. 

 

 

*   FALL   *

 

>   
>  _ "Good morning, listeners. The annual Fall Fair will be held in the town square. There, you can participate in several mini games to earn Star Tokens which can later be traded in for any of these items: Dried Sunflower, a fedora, a Rarecrow, an actual Crow with a severed finger in its beak, a ticket to Calico Desert, a lost sandwich with a bite missing, and a Stardrop. Well, listeners, isn't this exciting?” _

Silence.

> _ "Gunther, curator of the town museum, asks that you bring any treasures and rare gems you find to him to showcase. In return, you'll receive a reward; maybe a musical block, or a chair, or a skeleton of an undiscovered creature bent at a ninety degree angle.  _ _ The museum accepts rubies, elvish scrolls, worn teeth, and even neglected toys of a nostalgic childhood you don’t recall experiencing but have memories of. In the case of not wanting to be haunted by them, experts suggest following these steps: first, dig a hole and fill it with the unwanted items. Then cover it, cover your eyes and scream 'it didn't happen. It's a lie.' until the hole bursts in to blue flames." _

Silence.

> _ "I have a letter here from Haley of Pelican Town that reads: Hey, this is Haley. That pretty girl? So, like, who even are you? Haley. Ex. Ex. Ex. Ex.' Hello, Haley. It's nice of you to write to me. I'd greet you in person but I can't leave this station because...there is no door. And if there was, I'd still be unable to leave as it's against the wishes of the Shadow Shaman." _

Emily's eyes roll, suspecting her sister only wrote that letter to be mentioned on TV. Also, she notices that her question was effortlessly dodged, the voice leaving no trace whatsoever of its identity. The Farmer, beside Emily and involuntarily listening, isn't interested to know; they want the broadcaster to be able to return home though, sympathetically aware of what being 'homesick' is like.

> _ "The lost and found has had a influx of items recently. If anyone owns any of the missing items, please retrieve them: broken glasses, an overdue library book, algae, a demonic scribbling, soggy newspaper, four wisdom teeth, a broken CD _—"_ _

Emily side glances the Farmer, who glances back.

> _ "And an unopened can of...Joja Cola..."  _

Emily asks, "Do we have a Lost And Found?"

The Farmer's head shakes, "We don't."

 

 

*   WINTER   *

 

> _ "Today's meal of the day is Pumpkin pie. It is apparently so delicious that it defies gravity and a few consumers have been sighted floating. You can collect Pumpkin pie at the local supermarket before six o clock in the evening. If you visit the local supermarket after six o clock, peer in through the windows and see red eyes staring right back, remember, Junimos do not have red eyes and closing time is six o'clock on the dot; I repeat, closing time is six o'clock on the dot." _

Silence.

> _ “Scientists in a recent online article have stated concern that spending more than ten milliseconds operating a machine or device on Wednesdays and Sundays make you more likely to be chosen to undergo unauthorised experiments. Hearing this, I fear that some of you are too late to save. Especially Sebastian. A daily career with computers is the biggest threat of all, otherworldly experts whose pictures cannot be taken are now saying.” _

"It's a legit job." Sebastian has said this many times to various people questioning the legitimacy of his job.  
  
"I know."  
  
Sebastian gives a tired look.

"I think, given time, people will understand."  
  
"And the fact that I enjoy my own company? You know Alex asked if I keep wearing black all the time as some sort of dark ritual."  
  
"You're fine as you are. You're admired and appreciated just as you are, Sebastian."  
  
Sebastian flusters, "You... it's alright if you want to call me Seb."

> _ "Listeners, I don't think I'll be here for much longer...I can just...feel it. Like how you can feel the wind change direction. Oh, my, this is sudden. I'm thrilled to return home but...I shall miss speaking to you all, as I'm sure you'll miss me. At least we have the memories." _

“Hey, Seb,” The Farmer calls and notices the change in Sebastian's complexion is instant, his cheeks becoming a rosy hue. "Were you listening to this on your radio before?"

"No, the TV." 

“What do you think? About the voice and everything it's talked about.”

“It’s weird. Sam and Abigail like it though.” Sebastian shuffles, awkwardly pulling the sleeves of his hoodie, purposely looking anywhere but directly at their company. “You know, if...you ever want to listen more _—_ if he comes back first, obviously, you’re welcome here. Anytime. Mean it.”

The farmer smiles and lays an appreciative hand over his arm, “That’s cool of you, thanks.”

> _ “Oh, the feeling suddenly became a lot stronger. And now my body is disintegrating. It appears this is it. It’s been pleasant. May you all remember my voice in times you need soothing and warmth. Farewell, listeners, and goodnight.”   _

No one can really be certain or put a finger on why but the town becomes noticeably quieter. He never intended to integrate into their lives, and they never intended to listen to his absurd broadcasts. But they did. A roaring of thunder and streak of lightening appear in the evening sky, reminiscently sending the temporary guest off the way it welcomed him.

**Author's Note:**

> There is so much more from WTNV I can incorporate into this crossover, so there's a chance I might when I've listened to more episodes and delved further in to the stories. Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! (°∀°)b 
> 
> ~~I hope I wrote Cecil decently...( ´ ▽ ` ;)~~


End file.
